


Enough

by Limerence11



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Drama, Family Drama, Forbidden Love, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M, Romance, culture clash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 23:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limerence11/pseuds/Limerence11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kíli may now be a prince of Erebor, but he finds himself unable to stop thinking about certain prince of the Woodland Realm. Not knowing what else to do, he turns to Bilbo Baggins for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really have anything to say at this point, other than enjoy, and please let me know what you think.

Bilbo had been back at Bag End for just over half a year when he heard most peculiar knock at the door. Of course, almost any knock on the door at Bag End was strange to Bilbo now. Since returning from Erebor he had been marked as a most peculiar hobbit, which meant that no one, except the more adventurous Tooks, visited him. But the knock at the door was not that of a Took; the noise was too loud, determined, and purposeful to come from a gentle hobbit. ‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think it was a dwarf at my door’ Bilbo thought to himself as he began to make his way to the entrance.

The notion of a dwarf at his door was so easily dismissed from Bilbo’s mind, because his recent relations with dwarves had not ended pleasantly. Though Erebor had been reclaimed from Smaug, and the treasure inside her had been successfully protected against an invasion of goblins form the Misty and Grey Mountains, and even though the relations between the Dwarves, Men, and Elves of the region had been improved, things did not work out so well for the Hobbit. Despite how instrumental Bilbo had been in the successful completion of these tasks, Thorin Oakenshield, maddened temporarily by his lust for treasure, threatened Bilbo’s life and by the time he had recovered his senses, the Hobbit was long gone, taking only his mithril shirt and trading his share of the treasury with Bard and Thranduil so they would return the Arkenstone to Erebor. This isn’t to say the adventure left Bilbo penniless; there was treasure enough hidden in a certain troll cave, with which Bilbo was able to set himself up for a very comfortable life back at Bag End.

Hearing the unexpected knocking at his door had made Bilbo reminiscent of his adventures, and when he opened the door, he was convinced he was going daft, for there was a very familiar and unexpected face on the other side of the green front door of Bag End. “Kíli, at your service, Master Baggins.”

* * *

 

The reclaiming of Erebor had been more than hard won, but when the feat was finally achieved the majority of the company of Thorin Oakenshield felt that they were in for years of peaceful and prosperous reconstruction. Kíli, however, felt considerably more uncertain about his future. When he finally healed from the injuries he had sustained during the Battle of Five Armies, he found himself facing hard truths about himself. He could not assuage his guilt about the manner in which Bilbo left the Company, without reward or honor, when he knew the Hobbit deserved the lion’s share of both. Whenever he took a moment to think, Kíli could not shake his desire to apologize to Bilbo.

But if he was being completely honest with himself, which he could only do when late at night, completely alone in his sleeping quarters, it was not Bilbo that kept him in his ennui, or at least, his guilt towards Bilbo was only a small factor. On those occasions when he was willing to look at the true reason he couldn’t feel at ease, he always found the source to be Legolas, son of Thandruil.

‘The insufferable pretty boy Elf. Thinks the world will bow down at his feet.’ When he would think of Legolas, Kíli would always start his examinations this way, attempting to find and hyperbolize any and all flaws. Very quickly however, the nature of his thoughts would change and soon enough he would begin to think of his honor, his bravery, and even his beauty. Yes, when he was alone, Kíli could admit that Legolas was attractive—not just the delicate beauty of Elves, but a strong handsomeness that even a Dwarf could appreciate, even if no one ever admitted it. He was thin, but not spindly like some Elves were; there was a taut litheness with Legolas that was quite becoming of him. Even the high, strong cheekbones and flawless, alabaster skin were attractive on him.

Kíli had desperately hoped that what he had felt was nothing more than an infatuation, a bit of puppy love for the cute Elf who was nice to him while he was a prisoner in Thranduil’s hall. But as time wore on, and his feelings didn’t change, Kíli accepted that whatever feelings he had for the elven prince were not about to fade.

These nights of lonely introspection and days of dissatisfaction did not go unnoticed by the other Dwarves of Erebor. At first, they chalked it up to Kíli having difficulty adjusting to a new life as a prince to a dwarven kingdom, and they figured he would snap out of his funk eventually. This proved not to be the case, and those around Kíli began their attempts to return him to his former cheerful, mischievous, and contented state. Some of these attempts were relatively successful, cheering him up for a time (Fíli’s decision to gild Thorin’s sheets, which resulted in a smelting fire in Thorin’s bedchambers, was particularly well received), but even the most successful endeavors were only temporary lifts to his spirit.

At some point Kíli came to understand what those around him were doing with all their distractions. It was endearing, and he was grateful that they cared enough to go to such lengths to cheer him up, but it didn’t stop the questions and feelings that were constantly presenting themselves. To return the kindness shown to him, he began to make a concerted effort to appear as if his friends’ and families’ efforts had been successful.

Kíli was convinced that everyone had believed his act, until the fateful day Fíli approached him saying, “Alright! My patience has worn thin with you. You have moped about this mountain for the past two months like a lovesick tweenager. I don’t know why you are so sullen, but it has gone on unaddressed long enough!” Kíli stood dumbstruck at his brother’s bluntness. “Isn’t there something I can do to help? You’d tell me if there was, right? There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” Fíli received no answer, as Kíli promptly turned on his heel and walked away as briskly as he could without appearing to be running.

With a mind desperately searching for an answer to his problems, Kíli reached his quarters, hoping to find a plan. There was no map or contract or book lying around that could give him what he wanted, but that didn’t stop the Dwarf prince from trying to find it, and he was willing to tear his room apart to do so. At some point in the highly irrational, yet extremely meticulous and systematic searching of his bedchamber, Kíli found an inconspicuous handkerchief. Normally he would throw it aside, not giving the article any consideration, but on this occasion it struck his fancy, and he took a moment to examine the handkerchief; it was simple and plain in pleasant cream color, with blue accents along the edges. The handkerchief had recently been washed, as it smelt not of dust, rock, or sweat that generally pervaded the mountain, instead it had a clean, soapy scent, with just the slightest hint of perfume. Its appearance and scent reminded Kíli of his early encounters of Bilbo Baggins: neat, simple, and gentle.

Letting his mind wander, he came to the memories of the first day on the road to Erebor, when he was in the idyllic and peaceful Shire, the home of the Hobbit burglar. Kíli wondered how long it had been since he had felt the same sense of tranquility that he had experienced in the homeland of Bilbo Baggins. He remembered the bucolic beauty of the land, and how everything had seemed so simple and easy then. And how he had never had the chance to apologize to Bilbo for the way everyone had acted in their lust for gold.  In this flight of fancy, Kíli realized what to do next. He would go to the Shire and set things right with Bilbo, if not for the whole company, then at least for himself. ‘The adventure will do me some good. Get me away from this mountain, and farther still from that damned forest, and its elven prince,’  Kíli mused to himself as he began packing essentials for his spontaneous journey to Bag End. ‘Perhaps it will be enough, and I’ll be able forget about him. It has to be enough.’


End file.
